


Unspeakable

by fid_gin, unfolded73



Series: The Loved 'verse [8]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 15:38:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1352776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fid_gin/pseuds/fid_gin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten gets his head knocked against the proverbial headboard, until he comes to his senses. Actually, it's not proverbial at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspeakable

**Author's Note:**

> Original posting date: September 19, 2008. Beta'd by jfiliberti.
> 
> If the Tencest is not your thing (what are you doing here?!), this is a chapter you'll want to skip.

Rose's arrival was preceded by the heavy clack of her shoes on the metal TARDIS floors, and both Doctors looked up expectantly, though one quickly returned his attentions to his side of the console to twirl a suspicious dial with, for some reason, temperatures gauged on the side.

She announced her entrance with a sultry, "Hello, gentlemen," navigating the flooring carefully on strappy heels only slightly thicker than the grating. The Doctor in blue continued to gape as she crossed to him first and reached up to ruffle his hair, scraping his scalp with her fingernails the way both of them liked. He made a happy, almost purr-like noise as he turned his head into her touch, bringing his hands to the dangerously short hem of the babydoll dress she was just barely wearing. After going up on tiptoe to brush her lips across his, Rose left him and crossed to the other Doctor in his ever-present brown pinstripes, still intently working on nothing in particular.

"Doctor?" she said, smiling and ducking her head to try and meet his downturned eyes. He finally gave a little sigh and looked up, his eyes flicking quickly up and down over her costume. She continued to grin as he took in her plunging neckline, her barely-covered thighs and black stockings, but her smile wavered when he finally spoke.

"Is that what you're wearing?" She recovered after a moment, again pursing her lips into her sexiest little pout.

"At the moment," she said, suggestively. His eyes met hers again briefly before he stepped away to circle the console, and the other Doctor's heart clenched as he watched Rose's face fall. She followed after him, her sultry seductress game forgotten. "S'a costume ball, you said." 

"Rose, the surface of this planet couldn't be more than the temperature at which water freezes. I have a lower body temperature, unlike the two of you," he jerked his head toward the other Doctor, who noticed, not for the first time in the last week or so, his counterpart's reluctance to meet his eyes or even speak to him directly. "Don't you think you might want something warmer?"

"Like what?" she asked, one hand on her hip, very plainly not interested in hearing whatever it was the Doctor was about to suggest.

"There's...oh, that fuzzy chicken costume in the wardrobe! Might fit you, if we roll the legs up a bit. Hilarious!" For the first time since she'd walked in, the Doctor seemed animated, until he noticed the other two staring at him as if he'd sprouted another head. "No?"

"I was thinking," Rose started, speaking through her obviously clenched teeth, "that maybe the three of us could stay in. An' I spent the last hour getting done up like this to _suggest_ staying in. And did you just suggest that instead, I put on a _chicken costume_?"

"Wellll...I think we may have a gorilla, if you're not fond of chicken."

Rose's ankle wobbled under her as she walked out of the room, less carefully than before, and she stopped to reach down and remove first one, than the other shoe before continuing her exit.

The blue-suited Doctor stared at his counterpart for a beat. "Could you possibly be any stupider?" he asked, before following Rose at a trot.

 

***

 

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" They all tromped onto the TARDIS, the Doctor in brown bringing up the rear and closing the door behind them. "1969 San Francisco, lovely. Well, when I say lovely, it was smellier than I thought it would be. Still, not bad." He kept walking, past the console and toward the hallway to the rest of the ship. "Take her into the Vortex, would you? I've got to check on a thing." The last part of his sentence was barely audible, as he was already disappearing into the bowels of the ship. 

Rose crossed her arms over her peasant blouse, frowning at the blue-suited Doctor who remained with her and who was moving to the console to do as instructed. "He's doing it again." 

"What?" He busied himself with the ignition sequence, moving around the console rapidly and not meeting her eyes. 

"Don't say what, you know what. He's avoiding us. He's been avoiding us for weeks." Rose swished her skirts, still enjoying the fact that she had gotten to dress up again for this particular adventure. They had made an odd trio in Haight-Ashbury, Rose looking every bit the part of the hippie, accompanied by identical twins in suits. 

"What do you want me to say, Rose? He hasn't been talking to me much either." His sentence was punctuated by the grind of the TARDIS engines as they dematerialized. 

"He's decided we're in some little human club and he's not invited," Rose said, plopping onto the captain's chair. 

"Oi! I'm not in the human club! I'm part-human. You're the only one on this ship in the human club." 

"Shut up. My point is, he thinks it's the two of us, and he's on the outside." 

"Well, that's not true," the Doctor said, as if that solved the problem. 

Rose rolled her eyes. "I know that. You need to tell _him_ that." 

"Why can't you?" he asked, a distinct pout emerging on his face. 

"I think it would carry more weight coming from you." Rose stood and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm going to go shower," she said and swung out of the room.

"He doesn't even see me as a real person, Rose," the Doctor muttered to no one in particular. "Nothing I say is going to matter." 

 

*** 

 

The door of the Doctor's bedroom flew open violently, and he raised his head to meet the eyes of his decidedly agitated counterpart, tuxedoed this evening instead of dressed in his customary blue suit. Doing his best to appear disinterested, he turned back to the pile of metal pieces and wire he'd previously been tinkering with, spread across the duvet. Said tinkering was just about the most action his bed had seen in the last few weeks, and he didn't intend to allow himself to be distracted from it.

"Do you know where Rose is right now?" the other Doctor demanded, pulling the door closed behind him with a sharp bang.

The sonic screwdriver chirped like the poor, confused crickets in one of the TARDIS's many gardens, and a small plume of smoke rose from the union of two soldered wires. "I have a feeling you're going to tell me."

"She's in her room. Weeping." The Doctor raised one eyebrow, looking up at his other self. "Wellll, not weeping. But she's upset!"

"Why? What did you do?" the Doctor asked, attempting to ignore the niggling guilt at the thought of Rose almost certainly unhappy at the moment, and almost certainly because of him.

His double was not biting. "She misses you."

He feigned confusion. "I spoke to Rose this morning."

"You know what I mean." He didn't have an answer to that, so instead took in the other Doctor's attire.

"Where've you been?"

"The Winter Ball on Zertiforius IV, which you agreed to attend six months ago, and which I, possessing qualities you lack such as common decency, attended in your stead."

"I was busy," the Doctor in brown mumbled. The other Doctor continued to stare him down, folding his arms across the black lapels of his suit jacket. 

"So you sent 'the clone' to do your dirty work." 

The Doctor shrugged. "You said it, not me." Quiet tension settled between them then, with the unspeakable having been spoken. 

Finally, the formally-attired Doctor broke the silence, his voice eerily quiet. "You think you're making it easier on yourself." 

The Doctor on the bed sighed, pulling off his glasses and setting them aside, rubbing his eyes. "What are you on about? What's your problem?"

"You!" he responded, loosening his bowtie so that the ends hung free from his collar. "My problem is you! You and this self-imposed martyrdom you're playing at."

"I'm not _playing_ at anything. And I'm trying to make things easier for the two of you."

"Bollocks. You're terrified that she's going to reject you, so you're rejecting her preemptively. Rejecting us both," he amended. "Either that, or you believe if you pretend long enough that you don't care whether we live or die, it won't hurt as much when we do." 

"You think you've got me all figured out, do you?"

"Why wouldn't I? As you keep reminding me, I'm _you_. Isn't that right? Otherwise, how could you justify _this_?" he said, gesturing between the two of them. 

For the first time since the other man had walked into his room, the Doctor looked, really _looked_ at him, let the anger flash in his eyes as he stood to take a few menacing steps toward him. "Get out," he said. "I'm busy." 

The other Doctor continued as if he hadn't heard him. "Rose isn't with me because I'm a more user-friendly version of you. She's with _us_ because she loves the Doctor, and like it or not that includes me." 

The Doctor's lip curled in a small snarl. "Thank you for that lesson on my companion's motivations. Are you finished?" 

"No," the other Doctor answered.

He moved so quickly, the Doctor didn't have time to react before the other man's mouth crashed into his, teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his lips and drawing blood, the taste of it intermingling with the flavour of the other as their mouths opened and tongues met. He kissed him back despite himself, unsteadied by the brutal assault of his twin's lips on his, by the hands scrabbling frantically at his shirt buttons, and almost of their own accord his own hands crawled up the front of the other Doctor's suit, untucking his shirt with a quick jerk and starting to work the buttons. Hair was pulled. Throats were sucked and bitten. The Doctor, hopping rather ungracefully, trying to remove his white trainers, stumbled and landed on his back, one of the many sharp stray pieces of technology strewn across his bed poking him painfully between the shoulderblades. 

Shucking his tuxedo jacket, the other Doctor knelt at the side of the bed to pull the other man's shoes off, followed by his trousers and pants. The Doctor, his breath coming in sharp gasps, worked at finishing the job of removing his shirt while the other stood and quickly stripped from the waist down before sweeping most of the metal parts onto the floor with a clatter and crawling over his counterpart. His shirt still hung open on his lanky frame, the ends of his bowtie dangling down to brush the other man's chest. This was going to be over very quickly, the Doctor thought, grasping his head between his hands and kissing him deeply, but that was probably for the best. His hips bucked under the partially nude figure atop him; his cock, already hard, nudging with delicious friction against the other man's erection. He moaned into the second Doctor's mouth and, breaking the kiss, tried to push his head down. 

"I don't think so," the other said, his voice raspy. He ducked his head out of the Doctor's grasp, sitting up. "Turn over." 

He hesitated for a moment - long enough for his duplicate to reach down and encircle him with familiar fingers that knew just how hard, just how fast to stroke. He hadn't realized how starved he was for physical contact until now, and if the other man wanted this, then he supposed he didn't mind giving it to him. With a sort of helpless groan he batted the hand away and rolled over, pushing himself up onto his knees, leaning forward onto his elbows. The Doctor felt him close behind, his cock bumping insistently against the back of his left leg, and then one hand was in his hair, pulling his head back, the other clamped over his mouth. Two of the other Doctor's fingers found their way between his lips. "Suck," he commanded softly, and the Doctor did, nipping at them as they slid out wetly over his bottom lip. The Doctor behind him slowly drew his fingers up the skin of his inner thigh, over his balls and between the cheeks of his ass. He bit his bottom lip, his tongue worrying at the still-swollen place where he'd been bitten, as the identical Doctor behind him gently, almost too gently, worked one finger inside. Impatient, he tried to push himself back, needing him deeper, but the second Doctor held his hips still with his other hand, preventing him from doing anything other than take what he was willing to give him. 

"Please," the Doctor hissed. 

"Please what?" the other asked, now adding a second digit to the first, and the Doctor cried out hoarsely. 

"Please...fuck me." The second Doctor slowly withdrew his fingers, and the Doctor felt him move behind him, heard him spit twice into the palm of his hand. A moment later he felt the tip of him, now slick with saliva, at his entrance. He sank into him slowly, a fraction at a time, allowing him time to adjust around him. Still it was almost too much; sweat stood out on his forehead and the Doctor shook as he struggled to keep his control, taking the last inch of the other man's cock deep inside him. The other Doctor paused, his human breath hot on the Doctor's back. 

"Okay?" he asked after a moment. 

" _Brilliant_ ," the Doctor answered through gritted teeth. 

It was all the encouragement the second Doctor needed, and he withdrew and set a pace of short, rapid thrusts. "Oh God," was all the Doctor could say. 

"Yes," his duplicate agreed, pushing forward a little too hard, and the Doctor gasped. The one behind stilled. "Too much?" 

"It's been awhile." The other Doctor began to move again. 

"But you...I mean, us...an' Rose..." 

"M'not..." The Doctor reached back, grabbing at the other man's haunch. " _Slow. Down_ ," he growled. 

"Right. Sorry. You were saying, you're not...?" 

"Usually... _fuck_. Onthereceivingend," he spat out.

"Ah. You should remedy that." He was moving more slowly, his hands splayed across the other man's hips. "Rose is very good ... she'll fuck you into next week." 

"Fantastic," he groaned. His counterpart shifted, changing the angle, and the Doctor tried and failed to keep from whimpering. "That's ... that's good." He transferred his weight to one elbow and began stroking his cock in a tight fist. They both stopped talking for a while, the room silent but for occasional grunts from both of them and the wet sounds of their coupling. 

"She needs you," the Doctor suddenly gasped from behind him. He was thrusting fast and deep again, but it no longer mattered, the pain felt good. " _We_ need you."

"You don't," he said between moans. The overwhelming feeling of fullness, the way the other Doctor was hitting him just right inside, and the work he was doing with his own hand had brought him to the ragged edge of release. His eyes squeezed shut.

"You're wrong. It's all of us. Together." The Doctor felt the other man's fingers gripping his hips hard enough to bruise. "And you need her." The truth behind his words heightened the intensity of the experience, and the Doctor felt his last shred of control slipping away. "You love her. Say it."

"I...love..." The Doctor underneath came suddenly with a hoarse cry, spilling onto the rumpled duvet. A handful of sharp thrusts later and the other Doctor followed with a pained sound that ripped from his throat. Panting heavily, he pulled out too fast, making the Doctor hiss. 

"Sorry," he said, falling onto the bed.

The Doctor let himself collapse bonelessly onto his stomach, ignoring the wetness underneath him. He listened to his duplicate's slowing breaths and wondered how long it would take him to fall asleep. "Then _tell_ her so, you git," the other man said, and the Doctor's lips curled in a small, bitter smile at how like Donna he sounded at that moment, "Instead of using me to do it." They lay silently as their three heartbeats returned to normal. "Well," he continued, and then laughed, "I have to say, I'm quite a good fuck." The Doctor snorted in response. 

 

*** 

She padded down the quiet hallway in her pajamas, her forehead creased with worry. Her black mood had concerned and frustrated her second Doctor, and had tainted what was supposed to be a nice evening out, and now she hadn't seen either of them all night. If one of them had killed the other, she was going to have words. On second thought, if her second Doctor had managed to make her first one regenerate, at least she'd be able to tell them apart. 

Rose had checked her second Doctor's bedroom first, but it was quiet and empty. Now she tapped on her first Doctor's door, and when there was no response she opened it and went in. The room smelled of sex. She took in the scene, the clothes and random bits of machinery scattered on the floor and the two men sharing the bed. She didn't need to see the rumpled tuxedo shirt one of them was still wearing to tell them apart; one man was on his back sleeping, his soft snores filling the room, while the other was lying on his side and staring into space. 

She slowly approached the bed, and had to suppress the traitorous voice in her head that asked what exactly they needed _her_ for, when they could turn to each other like this. She met her first Doctor's eyes and they regarded each other for a beat, then he held out a hand to her. Taking it, Rose climbed atop the bed and burrowed into his naked chest as he pulled the covers over them both. She felt his arms wrap around her, clutching her tightly. He said nothing, no apology, none of the words of endearment that were continuously spilling from the mouth of the other one. He just held her as if his life depended on it.

 

***

 

He awoke slowly, wiping at the drool on his chin and fidgeting because the rumpled shirt he still wore was bunched under his side where he had turned during the night. He became increasingly aware of soft noises from the other side of the bed, and almost before he registered consciously what they were, his cock twitched at the sound of Rose's pleasure. He rolled, careful not to disturb the bed, and saw his counterpart on top of her, both of them moving with a slow rhythm, their pelvises coming together over and over under the covers. Rose had her head thrown back against the pillow, the long column of her neck exposed, and the other Doctor was kissing her there gently, inching his way down to her chest. 

He wasn't jealous, lying there watching them, only relieved that the other Doctor was finally being intimate with her again. She had suffered from his absence, and while he might never stop secretly wanting her all to himself, he mostly just wanted her happy. As the months had worn on, it had become clearer and clearer that what made her happy was both of them - all aspects of the Doctor, united in their love of this one amazing woman.

As he watched, the other man covered her face in tender kisses, his lips barely brushing the surface of her skin. "Rose," he heard the other Doctor whisper. "Look at me." She opened her eyes and focused on the man over her. She moaned desperately, and he could tell from across the expanse of bed that she was getting close. She reached up and cupped his cheek in one hand. "Rose, I ... I love you."

She gasped, her movements faltering. "What did you say?" Her hand darted down to his chest, and he imagined there was a split-second when she thought she must've mistaken one Doctor for the other. 

"I love you," he repeated, his voice breaking with the intensity of the emotion. "I've always loved you."

"I know," she gasped, and then she was coming, crying out softly. "I love you, Doctor." She closed her eyes and he saw a tear track its way down her temple.

The other man buried his face in her neck, mumbling endearments into her skin as he continued to move inside her. When his orgasm hit him, a tremor seemed to shake him from head to toe. 

They stayed wrapped in each other for a long time, caressing each other's skin and murmuring. He had closed his eyes, still drowsy and not wanting to intrude, and was surprised when he felt Rose's hand on his arm, pulling it toward her. He opened his eyes to see them both looking at him. "C'mere," she said, and he obediently scooted close so that he could hold her along with his counterpart, who had rolled to her far side and was spooned against her back. He put his arm around her, inhaling the smell of her sweat and sex. Just before he drifted off, he felt the hand of the other Doctor run up his arm and squeeze his shoulder. He blinked, looking at the other man.

"Thank you," the Doctor whispered.


End file.
